


A Clashing of Universes

by OakwoodOuroboros



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Soul Eater
Genre: Adventure?, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Author needs your comments for inspiration!, Careful some of the characters of both series are merged, Gen, I've got problems with formatting OK?, Mild Angst, School Life, That means that here Ron is Soul and so forth, Ugh this old fic needed revamping SO long ago, characters all have a backstory, characters all have secrets, most anyway - Freeform, sorta anyway, the characters are in order of appearance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-06-02 14:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6570169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OakwoodOuroboros/pseuds/OakwoodOuroboros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Replace a few characters from Harry Potter with Soul Eater ones, step back and see what happens!  Will they have a good laugh, or will they tear each other limb from limb? Set in the HP universe and plotline, for those looking for Shibusen you're out of luck, there will only be Hogwarts in this one! This story has several character merges, so some of their personalities will be changed and/or switched.</p><p>On Hiatus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shark

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter or Soul Eater, they both belong to their respective owners (not me, then). 
> 
> This story will have more chapters if I get positive feedback, so please comment! Updates will be slow, and will stay that way until I get a computer (not likely). This has originally been posted on Fanfiction, and I will also translate this to French sooner or later.  
> A great big thanks to Loose Cappers (not actual pseud, don't go looking for them), who gave me inspiration and who owns this story's profile picture (does anybody know how to insert pictures to the work? I'm having problems with it).  
> Now sit back and enjoy!

The enormous building was overwhelming by its size as much as by its wide array of travellers, ranging from tired commuters to whole families waving their kin off to far-out, undiscovered academic lands. Harry, was standing there, the Dursleys having just departed for the hospital. He felt abandoned, his uncle's quick departure and last comment sinking into him when he realised that there was, in fact, no platform nine and three-quarters. Even so, the events surrounding the appearance of his overweight cousin’s new appendage still made the young boy snigger, uplifting his spirits that had up to then been pretty low.  
His mood slowly sank down to its previous level while he searched platform nine, and his encounter with the police officer did nothing to lighten it. His cheeks still burning from the embarrassment, he turned around and headed the other way, hoping to not attract attention to himself as he had already.  
He started to panic slightly when he checked the time on the big mural clock set between platform eight and nine. The Dursleys were gone, and even if he found a payphone they probably wouldn't bother to come all the way back up to London to pick him up.  
It was then that he set eyes on a group of people, who, even surrounded by hundreds of brilliantly coloured travellers, stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowd. It was obviously a large family, composed mainly of very bright redheads, the only exception being a boy about his age with a shock of white detaching very neatly from the rest. On closer examination, the boy seemed to be the only one to be wearing acceptable muggle clothes : a yellow and black tracksuit, a white headband, and various badges gave him a “cool” finishing touch. Apart from that, they were obviously wizards. The owl sitting on top of the dangerously stacked luggage carrier could not lie.  
“Is this your first time over, little boy?”  
Harry was startled out of his reverie by the person who had obviously been leading the family group, a short woman who was now staring at Hedwig.  
“Oohhh... What a lovely owl! Still, no time to chit-chat, we need to get through the gate before the train leaves. You go after Ronald, there's a good boy.”  
A muffled “Mum!” was heard from the white-haired boy, quickly covered by the sniggers of two gangly twins, one of which was now holding the so-called Ronald in a friendly headlock, ruffling his hair.  
“Come on! We're already running late! Fred, George, stop that this instant!”  
The twins stopped at their mothers orders, and obediently lined up behind her. Closing her eyes, she then started to do something which amazed Harry in every sense. Her legs were carrying her and the luggage trolley straight towards a solid brick wall, several feet away. Harry got ready to shout out and prevent the inevitable, when she all of a sudden disappeared behind a crowd of tourists drifting that way. No crash was heard, so he assumed that the inevitable, had, by some miracle, been averted. Although, to his puzzlement, when the crowd cleared, no red hair was to be seen.  
A young girl and her older, bespectacled brother went next. Harry kept his eyes open, but couldn’t believe them when they disappeared, just before making contact with the pillar.  
“It's best if you keep your eyes shut and run as fast as you can, that way you don’t have to think about the impact.”  
One of the twins had addressed him, and he was about to thank him for his advice, but both of them tore off at high speed.  
He was left with the last boy, who he noticed, now that they were closer, had blood red eyes.  
“I’ll let you go first, to make sure that you get through OK.” He said, flashing Harry a grin that was filled with sharp, shark-ish teeth. Harry gulped and nodded, doing as he was told. His eyes squeezed shut, he started at a steady walk, cracking open his eyes to see whether he was headed in the right direction. He accelerated. His heart was in his mouth. All his doubts came crashing down on him in that moment of intense stress : will he be able to get through the wall? What if, unlike the others, he crashed into it, his belongings scattered everywhere? What if he didn’t find his place in the magic world? What if he got to Hogwarts, and was instantly thrown out due to lack of magic? Will he be able to follow the intense and unfamiliar magical studies?  
Hedwig let out a small hoot, causing him to open his eyes. They were inches from the wall. Without noticing it, he had started sprinting, and had built up too much momentum to stop.  
Before he could blink, Harry emerged into an enormous hall identical to the one he had just left. He slowed down, regaining some control over his luggage trolley. He spotted from afar the redheads, who waved at him.  
“With all this ruckus, we didn’t even get to ask you your name!”  
Harry was about to answer the twin, but Ronald collided with him. He was apparently not as quick to decrease his momentum as him. This distracted everybody, they were now more or less concentrated on helping Harry with his heavy trunk, which had toppled.  
“No need to put it back on the trolley, just bring it directly into the train. Are you hurt? Let me rearrange your hair! It’s all messy. “  
Before he could stop her, the kind witch started flattening his hair against his skull. In the process, she uncovered his scar. She stopped, startled for a few seconds, before smiling at him and straightening his jacket.  
“There we go, all tidy now!”  
Fred and George had observed the whole scene in silence, as well as their little sister. They all took a little longer to recover from the shock than their mother, but the two boys soon started whispering among themselves, large smiles plastered on their faces. The little girl, who had from the beginning seemed rather shy, had promptly turned a shade of beetroot.  
“Ginny, come and help me with this trunk!”  
The mother had obviously seen her daughter's embarrassment and had come to her rescue, with some help from the newly formed task. The twins were still murmuring though.  
“Do you think that he is..?”  
“Of course it’s him, dummy! Who else would have...”  
“And may I ask you what you two are doing when you should be helping mother out?”  
The eldest brother, the one that was wearing spectacles, was towering over them with his two inch advantage of thicker shoe soles.  
“Oh, so this is perfect, prefect Percy!”  
Harry saw an official-looking badge adorning the young man's chest, confirming his position.  
“I wonder, George, whether our older brother may have received a certain shiny badge this summer, allowing him to reach the summit of prefection, oops, sorry! Perfection!  
“l do wonder the same thing, Fred, I wonder exactly the same thing...”  
Percy's ears had turned bright red at the tips, and his face was a mask of distaste. He turned back to the train, where all the bags and most of the students had already boarded.  
Harry rushed past the mother of the kind wizard family, who was rubbing a moist handkerchief to her youngest son’s nose.  
“Dear, stop wriggling, I can’t get it off otherwise!”  
Ronald finally evaded her grasp, and entered the train behind Harry. They walked down the nearly empty corridors, trying to find an empty cabin. They made their way to the head of the train, and having found nowhere, turned back. They encountered the twins near where they started searching, and they waved at Harry and their younger brother.  
“You'd better find a window quickly Ron, or else mum will send you a Howler for not having waved at her!”  
Harry's eyes went from the twins to Ron, who’s expression became one of pure terror, then relaxed into a shark-toothed grin once he understood the joke.  
“Very funny, guys, but I need to find somewhere to put this trunk first. And by the way, my name is Soul.”  
The door was slammed shut before any replies could be uttered, and they trudged on their quest to find a seat.  
Finally, after having gone down the whole train, they found the only carriage that could hold them. A single person was present, but they were rolled up in a corner of one of the benches closer to the door and were fast asleep. They made their way into the cramped space and helped each other out with lifting their luggage to the racks above their heads. A stray lock of hair fell in front of Harry’s eyes, which he pushed back.  
“Soul” caught the gesture out of the corner of his eye, before staring at Harry's forehead full-on.  
“You’re... Harry Potter?” Ron’s voice contained so much amazement that Harry couldn’t stop himself from smiling.  
“Yes?” he said tentatively, sitting down while he did so.  
“Wow! Honoured to meet you, I’m Ronald “Soul” Weasley, but just call me Soul, most people do.” He said, his face slightly scrunched in irritation.  
He extended a hand, that Harry shook. A brief silence installed itself, before being broken by the sharp whistle of the departing train. Ron, or Soul, was triggered by this and slammed the window open, sticking half his body out in the process. Harry followed suit and waved likewise to Misses Weasley. He heard a faint shouting, something concerning toilet seats, amongst the incredibly loud din of family members parting. He dismissed it as a figment of his imagination, and retreated into the cabin once the crowd had disappeared from view.  
“So...is all your family wizards?” Harry asked, the curiosity eating away his normal politeness.  
“Oh, um, yeah? We have been for generations, although we do have an accountant on my mum's side that we don't talk about much...”  
A new silence ensued. “Soul” kept glancing up from the window to rest on Harry's scar.  
“Umm... Do you remember anything ? From You-know-who, I mean?”  
Harry was confused by the question, until he remembered who he was talking about.  
“Oh, you mean Vold...”  
“Shh! Don’t say it!”  
Ron's face was panic-stricken, and he was flaying his arms around.  
“Ok, You-know-who, then. Well, the only thing I do remember is a flash of green light and intense pain, but I don’t remember his face.”  
“Oh, well...”  
Ron seemed slightly disappointed.  
“Hey, how come you call yourself “Soul”? And sorry to ask, but is that your normal hair colour? I mean, the rest of your family has red hair.”  
“Now, the reason my hair is white and my eyes red is simply because I am albino.” “Soul” replied with visible pride showing on his face. “It's genetic, you know, my brother Wes has the same thing, and I think that second cousin of dad's has it too...” His face scrunched up in concentration while trying to remember the relative in question. A black mark was still visible on the right side of his nose.  
“And how about the name? Is it a nickname?” Harry was now fully concentrated on the boy in front of him, his intimidating shark-toothed smile now forgotten.  
“It is a nickname, given to me by Wes, before he went off studying dragons. He gave himself that name as well, because he likes Western music. I actually prefer Jazz, but we both thought that that sounded like a girl’s name, you know? Jasmine.”  
“So wizards listen to Muggle music as well?”  
“Not really. You see, my father is a great Muggle enthusiast, and he brings things back from work that come from the Muggle world, and totters around with them in the garage. We even have a car! Anyway, When I was really little and Wes was still pretty young, dad brought back this phonograph thing with a vinyl on it. He managed to set it up and made it work with magic. It was then that my brother fell in love with music. He would go down to the local Muggle village and listen to the radios through open windows in summer. He once even worked up the courage to walk into a shop and handle Muggle money to get this old vinyl. By then my brother considered that I was old enough to appreciate the music he played with him, and I discovered that I had the same love of it as he did. We then started getting interested in the other aspects of Muggle culture, to my dad's great enthusiasm. I think that we beat him on certain aspects of that knowledge, do you think I look like I come from a wizarding family when you see me dressed as a Muggle?”  
Harry agreed that his style did resemble that of a slightly eccentric, but otherwise normal, Muggle. They then started talking music, Harry quickly realising that Soul's tastes were a little dated. They slowly started veering off the subject, Harry's interest in magic clearly needing to be sated. Soul was halfway through explaining how cushioning spells for brooms worked, when there was a light tap on the glass of the sliding door, before it was opened by a lady pushing a trolley.  
“Any of you want something to eat, dears?”  
Harry realised that it was approaching lunchtime, his stomach agreeing with him loudly. Having never tasted wizard food and having a bag filled with the money left over from Diagon Alley, he proceeded to spend at least part of it on the mountain of food spilling out of the overfilled trolley.  
“And how about you two? Do you want anything?” the lady asked, a kind smile on her face.  
“I'm okay, I’ve got sandwiches.” Soul said mournfully, pulling out a small aluminium-wrapped package.  
They both glanced to the corner where the third occupant of the carriage was still sleeping. All the commotion hadn't woken them up, they were still fast asleep, strangely coloured strands of hair covering their face.  
“ I think it's better to leave them be,” Harry said, before quietly thanking the smiling lady and closing the door.  
“ Mum always forgets I don't like corned beef,” Soul said sadly, the wrapping making a foily noise when separated from the sandwiches.  
“Here, help me get through these instead, I don't think I can manage by myself. And besides, I need you to explain to me what all of them are, in case I unwrap something wrong or something stupid like that.”  
Harry pulled out a selection of sweets, and he and Soul started going through them, the latter explaining the principles behind magic frog cards and such. They sampled all the foods they came across, which left the poor, innocent corned beef sandwiches forgotten in a corner of the table.  
Some time had passed already and they were slowly digesting their “meal”. They had left a few of the sweets for the last person in the carriage, so that they didn't feel left out when they woke up, if they did at all, that is. For one, they already had their robe on, even though it seemed on the limit of what could be accepted as a school uniform. They had also experienced Soul's very loud yells when his pet rat, Scabbers, had engulfed a great portion of a rare magic frog card that he hadn’t previously found. All in all, they didn’t seem to want to be disturbed.  
A great bang flew through the cabin when two redheads and a guy with square glasses flung the door open.  
“Hey, Ronnie-Wonnie, we just wanted to pass by to see if you were okay, and so that you can meet Kirik's pet tarantula!”  
“Yeah, her name's Arachne! Don’t you think she’s cute?”  
Kirik had a large shoebox with holes in the top to let the animal breathe. He placed it on the table, and started to lift the cover off. Soul had, at first, reddened rather dramatically when the twins had shouted out his embarrassing nickname. But at the mention of the spider, his face had drained of colour faster than Uncle Vernon's, at the reception of Harry's first Hogwarts letter. He was impressed at this feat.  
None of the boys seemed to notice this though. The lid was fully removed, at which point Soul had clearly started hyperventilating.  
“ No guys, this is going too far.”  
Kirik had finally realised that something was wrong and had exited with his strange pet, throwing Soul a worried glance as he did.  
“ Aww, come on, he needs to get over it!” George yelled, going after his friend.  
Soul had calmed his breathing and was now concentrated on forming a sentence.  
“ Not...funny...Fred...”  
“ We're just trying to help you, you know. You should be grateful.”  
With this last huff, he exited into the hallway. A lot of students were milling around, including prefects who were trying to maintain at least a little order.  
“ Ron! Are you OK? I saw those two idiots walk past with Kirik and his spider, I thought they were coming from here...”  
The eldest of the Weasley clan who was still attending school came in, his indeed very shiny prefect badge gleaming in the sunlight.  
“ Percy..: my...name...is...Soul...! And... I’ll...be...fine...” Soul chocked out, before going back to regaining his “cool” composure.  
“If you say so...”  
Percy went back to yelling at some students who were blocking the hallway. Harry sighed and got up to slide the door shut again, before going back to Soul.  
“Please... Never mention that again.”  
Harry made the “zip” motion before sitting back down again. It didn’t bother him that Soul had a phobia: we all have our weaknesses after all.  
“Thanks.”  
They sat in there for a while, before Harry started clearing away the empty wrappers and the remaining sweets. More and more noise was coming from the corridors, students getting more and more agitated as the day went on. Soon, a girl with greasy pigtails and large green eyes opened the door, much to the surprise of the two boys, neither of them having met her before.  
“Hello there! I'm just going around the carriages to remind you to put your school uniform on before we get to the station,” she said, a smile on her face and in her eyes.  
“Aren’t the prefects supposed to do that?” Soul snapped at her, visibly annoyed. She did seem to be only their age after all, nowhere old enough to be a prefect.  
The girl looked slightly flustered, her smile wavering.  
“I'm just trying to help them out! They have so much to do already, and...”  
“That isn't a reason to walk in on us like that! And you shouldn’t take authority like that! Just go away!”  
Visibly hurt, the girl slammed the door, leaving them to change.  
“You were a bit harsh on her just then...”  
Harry had spoken up to this friend, who was now pulling a robe out of the small backpack he had thought to bring along with his trunk. He didn’t look at Harry, fully concentrated on his task.  
He let him be: he had realised that he regretted his action, and had only acted so because he was still nervous after the spider incident. Sighing, he stood up on the table in the middle of the cabin to open his trunk without having to pull it off the rack it was sitting on. They changed, before sitting back down again. Gazing out the window, Harry watched the countryside as they approached their destination.  
“Sorry about earlier on.”  
“That’s OK. Just don't take your anger out on people who have nothing to do with it, please.”  
They slowly started up the conversation where they had left it. The sun was now at the far side of the sky, its rays coming in horizontally, washing the small cabin in bright orange and red. It was very comfortable, Harry thought, his head resting against the warm glass, Soul's quiet rambling filling his ears.  
The door flew open.  
A boy dressed in a brand new set of robes, personalised at the neck with a silver skull-shaped pin, strode into the carriage. Three stripes of white marred the raven black of his hair. Close on his heels strode two girls, one of them seemingly a year or more older than the other, who was the same age as everybody else present.  
The boy's eyes were an astonishing colour, gold, but they had the world-weary look of a person with too much of an easy life. They lit up, though, when they alighted on Harry.  
“Ah, the famed Harry Potter! Glad to meet you, my name is Draco Malfoy, but I preferred to be called ‘Kid' by my closest friends. Do you wish to access that group?”  
His demeanour was overly uptight, and Harry didn't take the extended hand that he presented him.  
“ I don't...”  
“Hey, three stripes! Do you mind not barging in on us like that? We've had too many of those today, thank you very much!” Soul yelled, cutting off Harry's sentence.  
A slight red tinge coloured the flawless white of the boy's cheeks. The smaller girl sniggered, before being shushed by the person who was obviously her elder sister.  
“I see... You have already sympathised with the wrong kind of people. A Weasley, am I correct?”  
He continued before they had the chance to respond.  
“Not easy to figure out, thanks to the hair, although the clothes might have been an indication.”  
They all looked at the wrist of Soul's robe. It was a little too short and the cuff was rubbed to the point of being threadbare. He quickly shoved his hand out of sight, his ears glowing pink.  
“Well, you’re always welcome if he disappoints you...” he sighed.  
“GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE I TEAR YOUR HEAD OFF, MALFOY!”  
“You see? Always the ones to resort to violence first. Anyway, let’s get going girls, we’ve got things to attend to...”  
He turned around, and started striding out of the carriage. He stopped short when he laid eyes on the third occupant of the cabin, still peacefully sleeping the trip away.  
“Well, well. It seems like I’ve finally found my lost possession. Liz, Patty, please bring it back to the cabin, I’ve got better things to do.”  
With that, he strode out, leaving the girls behind.  
“Wait! What are you...”  
The tall, older girl was standing with an aggressive stance in front of Harry, who had just uttered those few words. Patty, giggling, yanked the sleeping person out of their seat, causing them to yelp and fall to the floor. Picking them up and dragging them by the collar with surprising strength, she exited the cabin, Liz following on her tail, giving the two boys the ‘I'm watching you' sign, both fingers stabbing at them threateningly. Without further discussion, Harry and Soul got up and followed the group. The corridors were now clear, all students having retired to their cabins to change.  
“Let them go!”  
“What are you doing, you have no right to...”  
Liz had reacted at lightening speed, drawing her wand with one hand while slamming the tallest of the two boys, Soul, against the wall. She was pointing it at his face, paralysing everybody with fright.  
“Do not question us. We are perfectly in our right here, so get back to your cabin before anything messy happens. Understand?”  
The threat had been uttered in a cool voice, making the girl sound all the more dangerous. Soul had recovered from his stupor, though, and was visibly oblivious to the danger that he was in. Harry tried signalling him from behind, shaking his head and waving his hands furiously. He knew all too well this kind of person.  
“What do you mean? You just dragged that kid off while they were taking a nap! He was in the same cabin as us for the whole trip!”  
“Soul, no!”  
Harry’s cry was so full of fear for his friend that he actually did stop his protests, instead staring furiously at the blonde. Harry prepared for the worse when the girl raised her pine-coloured wand, seemingly ready to strike, but instead she smirked and let her prey fall to the floor.  
“Alright, then. Suit yourself, do you really want to know what’s going on? You can ask Kid in person if you wish. Heck, you can even ask a prefect, they would have all been informed by now. Still, do remember this : it would probably do you and the, uh, person implicated more harm than good. Am I understood?”  
Harry was terrified of this person : she had the demeanour and the looks of your typical female bully, but cruel intelligence sparked in her eyes. When he thought of it, the other two people whom she went about with were just as chilling in their own way.  
They didn’t know what to say. With a last smirk, she whipped her hair in their faces and strode off after her sister, who had disappeared into one of the cabins along the long corridor.  
Harry caught Soul’s arm as he was about to go after her.  
“Please, don’t. I think that what she said was at least partly true, just let it drop, please.”  
Soul sighed before returning to the cabin, Harry following him in. The sun had now completely set, it's last rays dying on the horizon.  
They hadn’t been sitting for fifteen minutes before the shrill shriek of the train’s whistle cut through air. Night had settled onto the small station, and as students pilled out of the carriages, they huddled in their thick cloaks. Vapour was rising out of the train's spout as much as from the student's mouths, making Harry's glasses fog up. He managed to clean them with a fold of his robe, before settling them back down on his nose. As soon as he did so, he glanced at the surrounding countryside, and gasped. There, standing tall and proud upon a jutting cliff, illuminated by countless lights, stood the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
“I am meant to be here.” Harry said, and for the first time, he thought he might be alright after all.


	2. Squid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrival and Sorting Ceremony at Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, but only a transitional one.  
> Tamashii-resonance came up with the character names of Brasa and Åska, all the credit goes to them.

“Firs' years! Any firs' years follow me! Firs’ years!”  
Hagrid's voice cut through the babbling of the many students and the cold night air. A small crowd of first years detached from the main group, and followed the hulking man down to the edge of the lake. It reflected the glimmer of the school above on it's slick-as-oil surface.  
“Now then, no more than four people per boat, or else you'll be the giant squid's dinner tonight!”  
A few girls giggled nervously at this, but none of them hesitated when they were promised food and a warm bed after the boat ride. They were all lined up on the sandy edge of the water, waiting to break the perfection of the lake's surface. Hagrid took a whole boat to himself, which wasn’t surprising considering his size. Harry was looking around, taking in the rest of his surroundings, when his eyes caught a flash of greasy blond.  
“Soul, look, don't you think you should go and apologise to her?” Harry said, nudging his friend in the ribs. Soul looked around to where he was pointing, and blanched slightly when the person came into view.  
“Well, I’m a bit...”  
“Come on, it isn’t that difficult! Just say that you're sorry and it'll be fine!”  
“Well, okay then...but I’m not really sure about this...”  
Soul dragged his feet to where the green-eyed girl was talking to a boy with a hairstyle that seemed to defeat the laws of gravity and hairdressing combined.  
“Oh yes, Gryffindor is certainly the best, but I guess Ravenclaw could be alright.”  
“Well, it would definitely be Ravenclaw for...”  
“Sorry to interrupt your conversation, but my friend here has something important to say.”  
The young girl turned her head away from the weird student, a very irritated expression spread across her face. Soul's ears had turned an interesting shade of beetroot in the low light, and he was mumbling and scuffing the ground with his feet. The girl's patience waned dramatically, and she reached into her shoulder bag.  
“MAKA CHOP!”  
The heavy tome landed it's spine on Soul's head with a sickening crunch. He fell to the ground, visibly in great pain, while the girl's eyes shone with laughter.  
“Let's just say that we're quits now, hey?”   
Soul grunted, before lifting himself up. They were now the only remaining people without a boat, and only one remained on the sand.  
“Hurry up, you lot! You're holding up everybody’s meal!” was shouted out by an unknown party before being taken up by all the other students. The three quickly got to the boat and pushed it off the beach, where it bobbed patiently in the water.  
“Everybody’s ready? Right then-FORWARD!”  
Moved by an unseen force, the boats started to make their way across the lake. They formed a V shape from above, like geese migrating, with Hagrid as it's tip. Seeing as the boats didn't need steering, Harry sat back with a sigh. Suddenly, a thought hit him.  
“What were you talking about earlier with that other guy? What is Ravenfang and Griffin's door?” Harry asked the girl who had taken place in their boat. Soul was sulking, looking away from the girl and towards the beautiful school. She gave him a slightly condescending smile, which irritated him a little.  
“Strange that you don't know. Hadn’t you read up on the history of Hogwarts? It can't be helped, I guess. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin are the three houses in which the students are sorted at the beginning of their scholarship here. Their attributes are based on bravery, knowledge, loyalty and ambition respectively. “  
“More like sneakiness and lying for Slytherin.” Breathed Soul, his eyes still fixed on the approaching school. “All the Death Eaters, You-know-who’s underlings, as well as You-know-who himself, come from that house.”  
“Don’t judge people so hastily, maybe they're not all...”  
Soul turned to the girl, eyes blazing.  
“Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”  
And with that, the boat fell into silence.  
When the scratchiness of the sand beneath the boat's hull was finally felt, Harry had worked himself into a very nervous state, fretting over which house would accept him. What if he belonged nowhere? Would they still let him stay?  
“What do they do to find out in which house you belong?” Harry asked, tugging on Soul's sleeve as they made their way up the steep steps to the school. He seemed a little stressed himself, but more inclined to talk to him now that the girl had left them.  
“I’m not sure. Fred said it hurt a lot, but I think he was joking.”  
This, of course, helped nobody’s nerves. Soul was so worked up that he didn’t react when Kid and his cronies went past them up the hill. The weird-haired kid followed closely, their head bowed. The group of first years reached the door, Hagrid up front.  
“Nobody forget anythin’? “ he said, holding up a cloak.  
“That's mine!” A boy yelled, pushing past the many students with difficulty.  
“Everybody ready now?” Hagrid said, before raising a giant fist and knocking on the large wooden door.  
It swung open easily, welcoming the students into it’s maw. They piled in, shivering at the change of temperature. When the door had closed the advancing night out, a grand looking woman made her way down the stairs on one side of the hall. She cleared her throat, and a dead silence replaced the student’s chatter instantly.  
“Welcome to the Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. My name is professor McGonagall. The start-of-term banquet will be beginning shortly...”  
Throughout the speech, all the students remained captivated. She explained such things as the workings of the house cup, and of course the different houses by which Hogwarts worked. She then asked them to prepare themselves before meeting the rest of the students and the staff members in the Great Hall, where they would then have the evening meal after the ever mysterious Sorting Ceremony. When she left the chamber, everybody complied with her order and started to rearrange clothing and hairstyles. A screech was heard at the far end of the hall, which quickly spread trough the room as about twenty silvery-grey ghosts streamed in though the walls. They paid no mind to the students, instead arguing over something that a ghost with a... teddy-bear head had just said.  
“Can you please forgive him? It's in his nature, it can't really be helped...”  
“Look, Tezca, I know that he's a monkey, but he will only listen to you. He's wrecked enough havoc already, can you please try to...oh, hello firsties!”  
The ghost who had been arguing with Tezca swooped down towards the students.   
“Hello there, I’m the Fat Friar, hope to see you in Hufflepuff!”  
“Come along, everybody, it's time for the Sorting Ceremony.” said professor McGonagall, who had crept back in while everybody was distracted by the ghosts. The grey-tinged apparitions floated through the wall opposite to the one they had come through, a few offering a small wave. All the students formed a line, following McGonagall through to the great hall. Everybody else was already seated at five enormous tables, the last of which was perpendicular to the four others. The ceiling replicated the night sky perfectly, mirrored by the thousands of candles floating around the room. Harry glanced past the person in front of him, and saw McGonagall holding an old battered hat and a stool. The hat was placed on it and unexpectedly burst into song, making a few of the first years at the front of the line reel backwards in fright. The song recounted the meaning of the houses, as well as their origin. As soon as the song finished, McGonagall came forth with a list:  
“Please go to the stool and put the hat on your head when your name is called.”  
She then started with an “Abbott, Hannah” whom the hat promptly added to the Hufflepuff house. All eyes were now on the first year students, each new addition to a house being cheered after.  
After a few more students had been called out, McGonagall paused, confused, before calling out :  
“Crona!”  
Whispers immediately erupted all over the room : a person with no family name? How was that possible? Soul tugged at Harry's shirt sleeve, but he had already seen. It was the mystery person with whom they had shared a train trip.  
They made their way to the stool, looking nervously around, before pulling the hat over their ears. Silence filled the hall while the hat decided on the fate of the person wearing it. The minutes were stretched longer than seemed possible, only the sound of the baited breath of hundreds of students was heard.  
“GRYFFINDOR!”  
The student rushed to the waiting table, glancing behind them and flinching painfully at the pats of congratulation they received.  
The list went on, Soul nudging Harry every time somebody he recognised was called, up until...  
“Granger-Albarn, Maka!”  
The knowledgeable girl with the green eyes jumped forward and seized the hat. The hat took it's time before calling out the girl as Gryffindor. Soul sighed and slapped his hand against his forehead, while Maka walked over and proudly took her seat.  
Harry was struck with awful after awful thought as the Sorting made it’s way to Malfoy, who became a Slytherin, then to Brasa and Åska Patil, who became respectively Ravenclaw and Gryffindor house members. Would he end up in Slytherin? Or would the hat refuse to place him at all?  
“Potter, Harry!”  
As he suspected, whispers were heard even at the teacher’s table. The Harry Potter?  
The hat obscured his vision, making it all the more easy to concentrate on it's speech.  
“Not Slytherin, then? A shame, really. There are so many great talents this year, but I guess that the best house for you is GRYFFINDOR!”  
A certain pair of red-headed twins started hooting and chanting at this, and they had to be shushed by the ghost with the teddy-bear head. Harry sat down across from him because he seemed to have a certain authority on the students.   
Thompson, Patricia became a Hufflepuff, and she seemed about to cry when she made her way to the table. Before anybody could stop him, a young man with bright blue hair and a psychotic smile jumped over the table, lifted the girl up and twirled her around before jumping back over the table and sitting her next to a beautiful girl with long black hair. She scolded him while he took his seat on her other side, but Patty was giggling, all thoughts of her sister being in a different house vanished.  
Weasley, Ronald was at last granted his admission to the Gryffindor table, much to the boredom of his brothers and the cheers of the rest.  
“At least we could have made fun of you if you ended up in Hufflepuff, but now you're stuck with us! Well, we've still got Percy...” said George, glancing at his brother who was buffing Percy's stolen badge with black shoe polish.  
The Sorting was now finished, and professor McGonagall removed both the Sorting Hat and the stool. The headmaster then got up to do his yearly speech.  
He sported a long silver beard, which would have swept the floor if it hasn’t been stuffed in the waistband of his robe. Above that, an aquiline nose, which must have been broken once or twice, held up a pair of spectacles with half-moon shaped lenses. His eyes shone blue in the light of the candles and had a sharp yet amused look in them. Despite that, his whole being seemed to radiate power, as well as a certain trustworthiness.  
“Welcome to you all this year! Let me say a few words: (he uttered something incomprehensible) Thank you!”  
The dishes which had been empty seconds ago were now all filled to the brim with delicious foods, ranging from soup to toad-in-the-hole. After a round of applause, everybody dug in, with the notable exceptions of the ghosts and Crona, who seemed about to be sick. Harry didn't hesitate: living with the Dursleys meant that large meals were for him a rare occurrence, and every available occasion was a good reason to have one. The ghosts, however, seemed slightly depressed.  
“Can’t you...?” Harry asked the ghost across from him.  
“Well, it's part of it, you know?”  
Soul decided that this was the right time to join the conversation, peas dripping out of his mouth.  
“Hey, are you the Headless Teddy? My brothers told me about you.”  
“I prefer to be called Tezcatlipoca, actually, or the Incandescent Mirror if you prefer my stage name.”  
“But why the Headless...oh.”  
Tezca had pulled on one of the big, fluffy ears that was part of the mask which covered his head, revealing the gaping wound underneath.  
“Severed thanks to a rather big misunderstanding, but none of it my fault though, I’m no criminal. I hope I haven’t put you off your food!”  
Harry did feel slightly sickened, but decided to only leave the rare meat. The rest of the meal continued in a certain silence, everybody savouring the moment. The only notable disturbances were Percy finding his badge and trying to bludgeon the twins with a stool, and the blue-haired boy from Hufflepuff, who didn't seem to understand the word “calm”.  
When the last of the slowest eaters had cleaned off their plates, the headmaster clapped his hands once and all the plates vanished.  
“Now how about a song to commemorate this new year, then? Sing along with the tune that you wish, as long as you use the right words!”  
Flaring his wand, a long red ribbon made it's way out of it and floated to the middle of the room, forming words in flowing cursive. The headmaster started first, singing out on a rather jolly tune. He was quickly joined by the blue-haired boy from Hufflepuff, who used the theme from a silly Japanese anime. Hesitantly, yet with growing numbers, the hall sang it's heart out. Very few people joined from the Slytherin table, as well as from the staff table. A notable exception was Hagrid, whose deep tenor made the candles waver. The Weasley twins were last to finish with their funeral march.  
After the applause and the mutterings of “is he mad?” had died down, McGonagall got up and called across the room:  
“Gryffindor students, please follow me to your dormitories!”   
They were the first to leave their table, following McGonagall with a bit of muted conversation, mixed with the sound of deep yawns. By the time Harry had crossed the threshold of the gigantic oak door, another teacher had stood up to call their own students to show them the way to their common room. For their part, their group was making their way up a great wooden staircase. The Weasley twins had sandwiched Soul and him. George (whom Harry had noticed had a small mole on his neck) leaned in and said:  
“Please only walk on the steps that we step on, some of them are booby trapped.”  
Soul lifted his head and nodded, Harry following suite. Fred remained silent.  
They passed several paintings in which the figures seemed to be moving to Harry’s tired eyes. The staircase was indeed trapped, demonstrated when an unfortunate boy got his leg stuck up to his knee between wooden slats. His friends stopped to heave him out, while some giggled at his clumsiness. At last, after having spent an eternity going up and down stairs and through corridors, they stopped in front of the portrait of a large lady, dressed as a receptionist.  
“Auntie!”  
The figure in the portrait looked up from her well organised desk.  
“Hello professor McGonagall. I trust you have the password?”  
“Listen up, or you won’t be able to get back in.” George whispered.  
“Resonance”  
“Fine. Have a good night sleep, kids!”  
And with that the whole painting swung on it's frame, revealing a gaping hole in the wall just behind it. Professor McGonagall climbed in, followed by the hazy-headed students. The room beyond the painting was warm with a large lit fireplace, and furnished with some beaten-up, yet comfy-looking chairs. To the left windows looked out over the pitch that had become the school grounds at night, and on the right side of the room arches led to several staircases.  
“Your suitcases have already been brought to your rooms. Breakfast start at seven tomorrow morning and ends at nine-thirty, and you can come and get some food at any time during that period. The prefects will show you where you all sleep, and answer your questions if you've got any. With that, I would advise you all to get to sleep as soon as possible.”   
She then left the room, leaving the prefects to direct everybody to their dormitory, then drop off slowly themselves. Harry and Soul, for their part, after discovering the large four-poster beds which were to be their own for the rest of the school year, changed quickly and fell promptly to sleep, exhausted as they were from the whole stressful day.  
The last thought Harry had before drifting into unconsciousness was for the Dursleys, and how glad he was to be oh so far away from them now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was a bit lazy proofreading this chapter, so tell me if you spot any typos.
> 
> Character merges list:
> 
> Ox Ford: ?
> 
> Nearly Headless Nick : Tezca Tlipoca ( Tezcatlipoca "the Incandescent Mirror" )
> 
> Lavender and Parvati Patil : Pot of Fire and Pot of Thunder (Brasa and Åska Patil).The credit for these names goes to the tamashii-resonnance, one of my favourite writers out there.
> 
> Cedric Diggory: Black*Star (Cedric-Garfield "Star" Diggory
> 
> Cho Chang: Tsubaki Nakatsukasa ( Tsubaki Nakatsukasa )
> 
> The fat lady(?): Auntie (is that really her name?)
> 
> And I'm not sure about Dumbledore, should I make him Eibon?
> 
> Any concerns, ideas, just review !


	3. Salamander

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, aside from being late, this has turned out being a series of snapshot-ish scenes of the character's first day at Hogwarts. I'm still looking for a viable plot to this story, and I'm seriously considering turning it into a slice of life if nobody helps out here.

**Warning: mentions of dissection of small animals**

Harry woke up that morning having had the best dream that his wild imagination had created so far : he had been accepted into a school, far, far away from the Dursleys, that focused on teaching the art of magic. He kept his eyes closed for a few moments longer, savouring the time he had left before aunt Petunia came along and started banging on the cupboard door for her darling son’s breakfast. After a few more minutes, his other senses woke up, and the messages he was receiving from them were only furthering his puzzlement. His sheets should have been rough and worn, yet these felt freshly laundered. The smell of the room was different as well, more like moist stone than a dusty, slightly sweaty closed space. It was only when Soul’s voice cut through the morning haze that everything came rushing back to him. He sat bolt upright, a grin dividing his face, grabbed his glasses and got the necessary equipment for the day together. It was only when his head had popped out the neck of his robe that he noticed that Soul was waiting for him on the threshold of their dormitory, his smile mirroring his own.

“Duh, I guess you can’t really help being excited on the first day.”

“Speak for yourself, you know half this stuff already, how do you think I feel? I didn’t even know that magic existed a few months ago.”

“You’re really happy that you’re not in the Muggle world anymore, yet as well as being excited, you’re really nervous because it is the first time that you’re going to be able to compare yourself to others, and see for the first time that you are not a big a loser as you think you are.”

Harry was impressed.

“Am I really that easy to read?”

“Like an open book, man. Just keep in mind that I’m not just the brainless hothead you witnessed yesterday.  I go through phases. Fred and George say that I’m on my “period” when that happens, but I don’t quite get the joke.”

They met up with a few other students who were milling around in the common room, including Kirik (who playfully ruffled both of their hair with a “No hard feelings?”) and Maka. The latter stuck to them like a leech when she caught a glimpse of the lightning scar, although she kept eerily quiet, taking notes from time to time. When they got to the Great Hall, she detached from them and went off to join the Patil twin who was in the same dormitory as her.

Sitting down, Soul let out a long, shuddery breath that seemed to shake his whole body, his relief apparent. They then attacked the various types of jams and marmalades that were spread out in front of them. They left quickly though, when they saw the plates at the other end of the table moving around thanks to an unknown force. It turned out to be the ghost of a monkey, and the havoc it was spreading was enough for even the benches to jump out of the way (who would have thought they were enchanted?).

The air outside was biting, and the colonnade only a meagre barrier to the wind. Percy had walked up to them, and had explained that the first period was exceptionally left free for them to be able to find their classrooms in time. Harry was grateful for this, as Soul agreed with him later on, confirming that this was indeed a good idea. The fact was that despite the extra hour, they arrived late at their first lesson. They were by far not the last, but they still received accusing glares from the few who had actually been able to get there in time. The teacher just gave them a cheerful smile before continuing his explanation on how to hold a wand correctly.

They were then allowed a fifteen minute break to find the next classroom, that the Charms teacher gave them directions to.

As soon as they got there, they knew that this was going to be the most cringe-worthy, yet boring class of them all. First off, the teacher insisted on the seating arrangements, saying that he put “pupils who look good together” at the same desk. Soul was unlucky enough to have to sit next to Maka, who looked just as pleased as he did when this was revealed. Harry, for his part, sat next to Crona, which didn’t bother him at all. He actually considered it as a blessing to his sanity when the teacher finally started the lesson. Chalk held between translucent fingers (he was a ghost), he wrote in large cursive on the board “SIR. EXCALIBUR”, then underneath that “FOOLS!”.

“This is my name.” he said, pointing to the chalked writing.

“And this,” he said, pointing to the second inscription, “is what I think of you until you have learned my full story by heart.”

He then started an endless rant about his time with King Arthur, and Harry, instead of falling into a slumber like half the class had, decided to observe the people surrounding him. He was fairly near the front, so there wasn’t much to look at other than Soul’s sleeping form and the relentless note-taking of Maka’s. Sure enough, Harry’s eyes having finally grown bored of the classroom scene, he decided to throw politeness out the window and stare at his neighbour instead.

Their eyes were fixed on the paper in front of them, painfully taking notes in a script so wobbly it mustn’t have been used often. Even though they were too slow to write everything the strange teacher was firing at them, they didn’t abandon and fall into the torpor that already had it’s hold on the rest of the students. The strain was evident though, unlike Maka, who had everything on paper the moment it was spoken. The individual next to Harry was indeed very interesting, way more than the endless speech which was being delivered by the tiny man, who had been strutting up and down the platform for a good three-quarters of an hour now. Finally, the bell that announced lunch break rang, student’s growling stomachs having woken them up before the end of the speech.

“For tomorrow, you will write a detailed retrospect on this lesson, as well as adding your personal comment about how awesome I and King Arthur were as a death-defying duo! I hope your notes will help you!”

A collective groan escaped the classroom, including, surprisingly, Maka’s.

“But I’ve already done that!”

* * *

Lunch was yet another delicious meal, although unlike breakfast, everybody was sat down at the tables at around the same time. Different houses usually didn’t mix, but Harry could spot some exceptions. Patty had eaten her main course with her sister and Kid, but had returned to her own table for desert. Åska had gone over to see her brother between two courses, and, annoyingly enough, the benches around Harry were packed with a variety of people wanting to talk to him, or even just get a good look at the famous scar.

The meal ended, and the headmaster got up to make an announcement.

“I hope that you enjoyed your first morning of interesting, or boring lessons, depending on your point of view.” A few chuckles were uttered at this remark.

“For this first lunch that we had in common, it was accepted that you switch tables from time to time. But from now on, you will be required to stay at your house-table at every meal, but don’t worry: you will be allowed to chat during break-time.”

A few huffs were heard throughout the room, but everybody complied. They left the hall for their next lesson.

This one just happened to be a shared double period lesson with the Slytherins. Harry was slightly worried at the prospect of having to deal with Kid again, or more likely the explosive nature of his and Soul's personality combined. Like bases and acids, thought Harry with a smile as he sat down next to his friend. Those science documentaries he had been forced to watch by aunt Petunia had left their mark.

The students were now all seated and waiting for the teacher to make his appearance. He seemed to be taking his time, as it was enough for them to be able to mumble amongst themselves, conversations and theories getting more and more heatedly debated as the teacher's absence dragged on.

“Do you know anything about him that I should?” asked Harry, after having overheard the words being exchanged at a nearby table. Somehow, they were suggesting that their Potions teacher was more living corpse than human. Soul chuckled at this.

“They're close enough, I guess. As always, I've only had my brothers as a source for _that,_ but according to them...”

BANG!

“Gryffindor, minus two points for unnecessary chatter. And because I suspect that you are as much trouble as your brothers, Weasley.”

A man was sprawled on the floor, an upturned office chair at his side. The wheels were still going around with a little squeaky noise as he pulled himself to his feet.

Harry was not sure what was wrong with this man, at first. Something definitely seemed off, but he couldn’t quite place it. Maybe the shiny glasses? Or the...

And then he gasped as realisation struck him.

“Gryffindor, minus another three points for interrupting my train of thought. Learn to be a bit more discrete, Mister Potter; the fact that you’re a celebrity doesn't make you some sort of superior being.”

Harry's fists mirrored Soul’s as they were clutched so tightly that the knuckles turned white. They were holding back from crying out at the complete and utter injustice of this teacher, yet they knew that in doing so their house would probably be after their blood as much as the teacher in question. Most of the classroom was still in shock at the suddenness of the professor’s arrival, as well as his undoubtedly horrifying appearance.

He would have been a very handsome man, even at his assumed ripe age of mid-thirties, early forties. Some things seemed very odd about him though, like his unusual silvery hair, uncommon-by-wizard’s-standards white lab coat, huge scars zigzagging across his face, and finally...

“Is that a SCREW you've got through your head?”

A small Slytherin girl had piped up, voicing the question that half the class had been silently begging others would ask before them.

The man righted his chair and dusted himself off, paying no mind to the heavy silence which had fallen in the damp classroom. With slow motions he reached into his pocket for a packet of cigarettes, pulled one out and lit it. As he did, he occasionally stopped and lifted an arm to his head instead, and turned the huge metal appendage sticking out of his skull. This continued until the smoke was half ashes, and in one puff he finally let the words slip.

“Yes, it's to keep my thoughts together.”

The students continued waiting, not quite sure what they were up to after witnessing this apparent mood swing. One minute strict and scary, the next calm and mysterious. Scratch that, thought Harry. This guy was still creepy even when he dropped the severe side.

“Class.”

Attention snapped back for the teacher.

“A few things before we start. My name is _Doctor_ Stein. Call me anything else: Professor, Teach, Franken, and I will not hesitate to remove house points.”

His gaze stayed fixed to the back of the room as he said this, not meeting anyone's gaze as the clouds of smoke blossomed about him in the moist air.

“Also, keep in mind that as a scientist, I specialise in several domains, and that Potions will only be a small part of our curriculum. Ah yes, I also don’t believe in calling out every damn students name at the beginning of every lesson just to see if they know the thing by now. If you’re not here, I will notice, and no explanations will be received if not accompanied by written proof and the signatures of at least three different adult witnesses working in this school. Have I made myself clear?”

Maka's hand had shot up a while ago, and Doctor Stein was obviously taking great pleasure in seeing the limb getting sorer and sorer while staying raised. A smile painted across his face, he took one last puff of smoke before finally ungluing his eyes from the seemingly very interesting chart at the far end of the room.

“Yes, Miss Albarn-Granger? Anything you would like to add?”

“I do actually have a few questions, Prof...”

“Minus five points for Gryffindor.” He said with a Cheshirean grin. “Please continue.”

Maka swallowed her saliva and did as she was told.

“Well, for one I think that when I had a look through this year's curriculum, it clearly stated that we would only be doing several types of potion-brewing and studying how the ingredients worked.”

The grin only spread further on his face as he said:

“Interesting. Please continue.”

“Erm, right, and shouldn’t role call be used to get to know the students better, at least at the beginning of the year?”

Professor Stein reflected on this for a moment, before finally stubbing his cold cigarette butt out directly on the wooden table.

“Misses Albarn-Granger, your vision of things certainly is intelligent and well reasoned. However, may I point out that as the only Potions teacher of this school, I am rightfully the one who decides on the content of these lessons, as well as the methods I use to manage my class. Also, don't you think that a teacher who already knows the names of most of his students wouldn’t notice their absence? I thank you for having tried to correct me, but I find the know-it-all attitude particularly distasteful. Minus seven points for Gryffindor.”

A gasp of outrage filled the room, quickly hushed by the teacher's stony eyes. He pulled out a terrarium from underneath his desk, showing no effort in lifting the heavy assemblage of glass filled with rocks and water. A few flashes of bright yellow could just be seen against the dull earthen background.

“We’re going to dissect these salamanders today to study the organ most commonly used in potions. It's important to understand the ingredients from their very source.”

He then wrote out a set of instructions on the blackboard. The writing was tiny and difficult to decipher, and as the students gradually worked out what the words were, the groans of disgust multiplied. Some of the girls were whispering furiously between themselves, horrified at the torture they would have to put the little animals through. Finally, the chalk screeched to a stop.

“What are you waiting for? Get to it! One salamander per table !”

A few students got up from their seats, followed by some other, more hesitant ones. Quite a few pairs didn’t even move though, refusing to be responsible in the death of the small creatures. Soul and Maka had reached the terrarium at the same time and were both attempting to scoop the unwilling lizards out of their den. Doctor Stein was regarding them with a condescending smile, interrupting them after one of the animals flew from their grasp to land on the flagstones below.

“Well, that'll be minus eleven points for holding up the rest of the class, and minus thirteen for letting it escape. And you'll both be staying in this evening to clean up. Under my supervision, of course. And don’t expect me to go soft on you just because you're in first year.”

The rest of the lesson went in a similar way. All students who had refused the activity were penalised, with an ever increasing number of house points taken away every time. Finally, they had extracted the fire-glands as instructed as well as they could reading the illegible scrawl. The bloody little chunk of flesh was now safely nestled on some special paper, but signs of poor treatment at the inexperienced student's hands were visible on most of them. The now widely hated teacher was walking around the tables, giving out praise or criticism depending on the quality of the work presented to him (most of the praise was addressed to Slytherins, Harry registered absently). These moments talking to individuals were mixed with a speech addressed to the class as a whole.

After a while, he came up to Soul and Harry’s table, and he interrupted his rant. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the little organ sitting innocently enough in its Petri dish, and Harry began to prepare for the onslaught that this promised.

His voice was soft as he delivered his first blow.

“May I ask, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, what this is supposed to be?”

Saliva was audibly swallowed.

“A salamander's fire-gland, sir.” Soul replied.

“Doctor, Weasley. And I was speaking to Mr. Potter here. Minus twenty-nine points for Gryffindor. Well?”

The whole class was deadly silent, all eyes on the scene unfolding near the back of the class. Most of the onlookers were merely curious, with a few exceptions. Maka looked worried, whilst Kid's expression was no more than a cold glare.

“A salamander’s fire-gland, Doctor.” Harry echoed.

“Indeed it is! I'm glad you're able to read, yet I am concerned with the state of your dissection. I appreciate the fact that it isn't always a clean job, but I’m afraid that this looks more like a piece of lung than anything else. Minus thirty-one points for that. Anyway, will our great Mr. Potter be inclined to repeat what the purpose of this gland is in potion-making?”

Predictably, Maka's arm shot up, while the boys were left floundering for answers at the table. Harry had caught that part of the speech, he was sure of it, but he was concentrating on not splitting the delicate animal’s stomach at the time. The memory was hazy, but he was sure it had some sort of logical answer...

“Time’s up. I'm afraid that you may not be all you’re cracked up to be then, Mr. Potter.” This was said with a seemingly genuine smile, eyes closed and head slightly tilted. “ Mrs. Granger-Albarn, you may answer now, before all your blood flows out of your hand.”

She lowered it with a frown. “ This organ is used for it's various medicinal properties; it is used simply crushed up in it's dried form to treat frostbite, and is also an important ingredient in the Pepperup potion.”

“As I’ve mentioned before, I don't like big-headedness, but I do appreciate the effort that you put into swallowing the textbook. Two points to Gryffindor.”

He then turned back to his previous prey.

“Yet I recognise incompetence when I see it as well. Minus thirty-seven points for Gryffindor, Mr. Potter. May that be a cause for reflection on your part.”

And with that, the bell sang it's sweet trill.

* * *

The corridors were crammed when they stepped out of the classroom, not that the dungeons were a popular place for students to hang around, but older friends and family who had themselves been caught up with Doctor Stein's lessons, knew of the trauma that resulted of the first encounter with the man. Fred waved them over from next to a statue of a nondescript witch, holding what appeared to be candy.

“So, how tough was it? Did he use his weird point system on you, or has he finally changed it to a better one?”

“I just don't understand! He picks out what seems to be random numbers, but keeps taking off more and more as his lesson goes on.” Soul huffed.

“And I don’t think he likes Gryffindor, either.”

“Yeah, that's right! He took a ton of points off me and Harry because we couldn’t read his stupid handwriting!”

Fred smiled at them and handed over the sweets. He seemed to have warmed up to him since yesterday’s spat, thought Harry.

“Yeah, I’ll explain. He's got this list of numbers, and every time a student, erm, steps out of line, he takes off the first number of points on his list. Even if you do something really serious, but that nobody else from your house has been punished on that particular day, he would take off, like, two points or something. It works the other way as well. The more good things and answers you get right, the more likely you are to get lots of points for your house.”

“But that isn’t fair!”

Maka's voice sounded from behind Harry, making both him and Fred jump.

“What on earth are you doing here?”

She fiddled with the seams of her gloves a second, before answering Soul's frown.

“Well, the conversation was interesting, so I came over to see if I could gather any information.”

Soul's frown only deepened, and Fred's snigger became more apparent.

“Wow, that was quick. A girlfriend and a break-up in less than two days! I think you've set a new record, Ronnie-Wonnie.”

“Erm, Fred, I don’t think...”

Harry's sentence was cut off by Soul's ear-splitting screech, barely muffling Maka's cry of disgust.

“FRED! THIS IS THE LAST STRAW, I'M TELLING YOU!...”

A bespectacled head popped out from the still nearby classroom, cigarette following the curve of a smile.

“Weasley, Granger-Albarn, minus forty-one points for Gryffindor.”

The doctor’s head disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

The corridors were now silent and nearly empty. After a few seconds, Fred turned around and strode off towards the surface. The three younger students followed him closely. When they were out of earshot of the classroom, Fred leaned down to the level of the three first-years.

“You're right, he's unfair. His system would work somehow if he applied it equally to all houses, but he doesn’t see them all everyday, therefore doesn’t judge all of them equally. Besides, he’s Slytherin's head teacher, and is known to favour them.”

Maka huffed audibly at his side.

“I will have to work double to keep our house points up, then. I never thought this school would be so full of incompetent people...”

“Wait a minute! You're the one who let that salamander escape!”

“He’s right, you haven’t been doing a very good job of it for now,” Harry defended.

“Yes, but you've seen how difficult it is...”

“MY LITTLE MAKA!”

All heads snapped towards the source of the cry. A man with long, bedraggled red hair was sprinting down the corridor, a small purplish-black cat on his heels. He had a strange mixture of happiness and horror on his face, like seeing a Turkish delight-flavoured yoghurt sprinkled with chocolate. He screeched to a halt about two feet away from the scowling girl, obviously trying to hold back from hugging her.

“I’ve been looking for you all morning! Don't you want to come and say hi to your papa once in a while?”

“Wait a minute, this guy is your _dad_?”

“Of course! Didn’t my little Maka tell you all about me already?”

A foot tapping had started from the girl in question, and she obliged with a bitter tone :

“Alright. Spirit, this is Harry Potter, Fred and Ronnie Weasley.”

“SOUL!”

“Ok, Soul, then. Harry, Fred, _Soul_ , this is Spirit Albarn, my father, and coincidentally the most annoying and magic-resistant Muggle in Great Britain.”

“Oh, don't be so cruel to your papa! It's merely the power of my love that stops me from falling prey to those awful forgetting spells!”

“And as a result, he abandoned a perfectly good job as a dentist to become a cleaner here.”

“But I couldn’t stand to be separated from you for so long! I would sacrifice anything to be close to you!”

At this, the young girl seemed to snap. She excused herself with a wave and a smile, before grabbing the still gushing redhead by the sleeve and pulling him around the corner. Before they fully disappeared, the aforementioned adult turned sharply to look at the three boys. The flame that moments ago had been warm and happy turned into blazing possessiveness in the space of seconds.

“I warn you! Don’t you dare even think of hurting my beautiful daughter, or you will regret it! No, you'll regret even thinking of her at all!” he managed to get out, before being swallowed by a curve in the great dungeons’ lengthy hallways.

Soul turned to his brother shortly after.

“What was that?”

Fred shook his head, before quietly muttering:

“That man must have done something terrible. And the worst thing is, I don't think that he realises it.”

* * *

Harry spied Maka when she came to the diner table that evening. She looked a little flustered and her eyes had a slight red rim around them, but nothing that could be overly noticeable. Åska was chatting to her regardless, and Maka seemed cheered up enough in joining the conversation. Harry's eyes swept the rest of the room, and a thought came to him.

“Hey Soul, do you actually know any other wizarding families? I mean, do you have any childhood friends, or something like that?”

His friend, who had switched his pointed hat for a bright red headband, munched thoughtfully on a piece of chicken. A thin gravy moustache was traced below the curve of his nose, giving him altogether with the pointed teeth a sophisticated homicidal maniac look. He had a knack for getting food on his face, Harry reflcted with quiet laughter.

“Well, everyone knows of the great wizarding families, or the ones that are mainly pure-blood, like mine or the Malfoy's. My brothers have known Kirik for years; they were allowed to hang out with him because his family’s half-blood.”

“And how about regular children, I mean Muggles? Don’t you go to elementary school with them or something like that?”

Soul's expression grew difficult to read; it was as if he was remembering painful times.

“We wizards have to be educated at home for things like reading and counting by our parents. A teacher can be hired, but they have to be close to the magical world at the very least. There is one of the best pre-wizarding-school teachers out there that is a centaur. I think he taught Kid over there.”

Harry’s mouth was agape. “A _centaur_?”

Soul's smile twisted sideways in a smirk, somewhat ruined by a piece of salad between his teeth. “I think that you mean: a _level-headed_ centaur?”

This only confused Harry more. Soul's smile remained as enigmatic and ridiculous, but he didn't offer up any more information as he took yet another bite out of his chicken leg.

Harry continued stirring his stew as he thought this through. What had caused the pained expression? Was the subject of pre-school friendships somehow difficult to discuss? Or was it the one of education itself? He could understand that: he had had it hard as well, and the last few days were what he considered being the most social interaction he had experienced, well, ever. Anyone his age had always made sure to steer clear of him, mainly because of Dudley, he realised.

Harry finally pegged it on tough luck, before attacking a strange fruit pudding having appeared in front of him.

* * *

That night, as they were heading towards their respective common rooms, they witnessed a scuffle that had broken out in the main hall. It appeared that some Slytherins had come along and shoved one of the Hufflepuff's prefects to the ground, a mild-mannered boy who had brushed himself off before walking away as if nothing had happened. This had only led to him ending yet again on the ground with a sneering elder Thompson sister over him.

“You _dared_ order my sis around? Do you know what you’re in for?”

The teachers were struggling to get through the mass of students that had gathered around the pair. Nobody was actually taking any action to help the poor prefect though. Liz Thompson was known as being as mischief-making as the Weasley twins, with the added trait of being ruthless and not caring about house points. She had drawn her wand and was holding it in a way which reminded Harry of their misadventure on the train.

A blue-tinged ball barrelled to the rescue, so fast some people thought at first that the Fat Friar had dived in to the rescue. Yet, on closer inspection, the thing in question was too compact and tangible to be anything other than another living human. Or a weasel with poor fashion choices.

Whatever it was, it now had Liz's head crushed up close to the stone floor and her wand out of harm's way.

“YOU WILL LEAVE THE FOLLOWERS OF THE ONE AND ONLY GOD ALONE!”

Everyone witnessing the scene backed off at the (now, for the most, widely recognised) boy's cry. It would have undoubtedly been funny under different circumstances, but the pure _faith_ he put in those words was enough to make a whole crowd stumble away.

A teacher finally broke through the compact mass of bodies, leaving a trail of groaning students in his wake. As he got closer, Harry understood why.

“Well well, what do we have here? I'll make this quick: no fighting is permitted unless it is to debate whether you are fools or whether you are fools! Did I make myself clear? No? Alright, minus ten points each. That seems a bit too harsh though...”

The quirky ghost’s moustache danced from side to side as he thought it through, before brightening as an idea struck him.

“I know! Write an essay of four feet of parchment minimum about how awesome I am, using examples taken from your notes in my class! That wraps it up well! Have a good night, and see you tomorrow with that essay!”

Pure horror flicked across both the female and male face to whom it had been addressed. They looked at each other, finding solace in their dismay.

“I think,” whispered Soul into Harry’s ear, “that that is the world’s evilest teacher.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone figures out what Stein's “list of numbers” is, tell me! This story doesn't have many followers, but if you do find it, I'll let you challenge me! Yep, that means I’ll write anything you ask me to!
> 
> And yes, Turkish delight-flavoured yoghourt does exist. I’ve tested it, and I think that the chocolate is what saves it.   
> Character merges list:
> 
> Asusa Yumi : Minerva McGonagall (Minerva McGonagall) I'm sorry, this was supposed to be included last chapter, but the idea actually just came to me this chapter though.
> 
> Excalibur: Cuthbert Binns (Excalibur)
> 
> Dr. Franken Stein: Severus Snape (Dr. Franken Stein)
> 
> Spirit Albarn (a.k.a. Death Scythe): Argus Filch (Spirit “Death Scythe” Albarn)


End file.
